“Is it just me, or is Clyde acting kind of strange?” I asked Tasha while Clyde lined up for frozen yogurt.

“Not just you,” Tasha replied. “No offense, but I want to go home and fuck right now, not hang out with you eating bowls of sugar. Sugar makes me gassy, which is rarely conducive to good sex.”

“Clyde’s a lucky man, sis.”

Clyde came back with our desserts, which were loaded with toppings from strawberries to lumps of Oreo cookie. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I just wanted to get home and sulk by myself, but Clyde had insisted we all hang out together. He didn’t want to leave me alone, which was noble, but completely unnecessary.

“Not to sound ungrateful, Clyde, but can I just take this and eat it on the walk home? I’m kind of exhausted right now. It’s been a long night and I just want to get into bed and watch some television.”

Clyde looked at the time on his phone before responding. He must realize it was getting late, and Tasha kept looking at him impatiently. She wanted to leave as much as I did, and when Tasha wanted something she didn’t tend to be all that subtle about it.

“Let’s hang out for a bit,” Clyde replied. “It’s nice here. You can forget about all the stresses of adult life and eat like a child again. I find it helps me get my mind off things.”

With perfect timing, a loud group of drunk men wandered in and started talking at the tops of their voices about Barton.

“Apparently he knocked Milton unconscious,” one man said.

“I heard they were fighting over a woman, and after the fight was over, Barton just fucked her right in front of Milton and made him watch.”

“Bullshit,” the first man exclaimed. “There’d be photos. He probably took her to a back room and fucked her there.”

I momentarily blocked out their conversation by swallowing a huge mouthful of frozen yogurt and getting four painful seconds of brain freeze as a result.

“This isn’t going to take her mind off things, Clyde,” Tasha said. “Let’s just go.”

“No,” Clyde insisted. “Let’s just stay for….” He trailed off as his phone vibrated. After checking his phone, he quickly stood up and grabbed Tasha’s hand. “Okay, we can leave. Come on, Tasha. Have a nice night, Kristi.”

Tasha didn’t put up much of a fight, but she did shrug her shoulders to indicate she was as confused as I was. I walked the short trip home, doing my best to ignore the drunken gossip about Barton. He was the talk of the town. He had been ever since he signed, but this time not for the right reasons.

I heard anger. Word had got out that he’d probably been fired, and that left the team without a quarterback. Barton would go from hero to villain in the space of one news cycle. I didn’t even care that all my work had been undone. I hadn’t been doing it for myself or for Leona. Well, maybe at first, but I really wanted the public to see the real Barton. The one I saw, not the ass who screws loads of women and gets in fights. Now I had to face reality.

I walked towards my apartment in a daze, but snapped out of it when the smell of pesto hit my nose at the far end of the hall. It got stronger as I reached my apartment. I opened the door cautiously, not wanting to leave the tantalizing smell behind. I’d eaten frozen yogurt and it was late, but the smell reminded me that I hadn’t had a proper meal that night.

My apartment was suffocatingly hot. We hadn’t turned the air conditioning on because it wasn’t warm outside. Had Tasha accidentally turned on some heaters?

I jumped back as a voice called out at me from the kitchen.

“Take a seat. Dinner’s nearly ready.”

“Barton? Is that you?”

Barton appeared in the kitchen doorway. “You expecting any other men around here to cook you dinner?” He’d slipped on an old apron that Mom had bought us as a joke, knowing we didn’t cook enough to need one.

“I wasn’t expecting any men around here to cook me dinner,” I replied.

“I’ve made a bit of a mess, I’m afraid. I wasn’t lying when I said I could only cook this meal in my parent’s kitchen.”

“It smells great,” I replied. It was impossible to be angry when that smell surrounded me, but I wasn’t ready to kiss and make up yet. I sat in silence while Barton dished up the food and sat down opposite me at the table.

If Barton was using the food to invoke memories of happier times then he had succeeded. I couldn’t take a bite of the pasta without remembering being in his parents’ kitchen when we’d been happy together.

“I take it you saw the news tonight?” Barton asked.

I nodded. “Managed to let off some steam?”

“Not really. I thought it would help, but I was focusing my energies on the wrong problem. I’m trying to change that.”

“You’re not going to punch me too, are you?” I joked.

“I think it’s more likely you’d punch me. I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have told anyone about our relationship. If I’d kept it a secret then you’d still have a job.”

“Thank you, but we both know it wasn’t a job worth keeping. The things they wanted me to do… well, it wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry my job caused you so many problems.”

“My short temper caused the problems. I’ve been fired.”

“Shit,” I exclaimed. I tried to sound surprised, but it had been inevitable. Punching a teammate was pretty much unforgivable for any sports team. “You didn’t need to do that for me.”

“I know. I’m a fucking idiot. This is what happens when you’re not my advisor.”

“Do you really need me to tell you that punching a teammate is a bad idea?”

“Yes. I need you, Kristi. Listen, I know I’ve fucked up, but I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“What have you learned?”

“That I don’t want to be without you. Not just because you keep me on the straight and narrow. That doesn’t matter anymore anyway; not now I don’t have a career. I just want you to be a part of my life. These last few days have been lousy. I love you, Kristi, and whatever the future holds, I want us to figure it out together.”

“You love me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for not showing that, but if you let me, I will never let you doubt that again.”

“Show me,” I commanded. “Show me that you love me.”

Barton stood up and took hold of my hand. The look in his eyes left me in no doubt about how he felt, or where we were going now.